


Family Ties

by Endless_Torment



Series: Rediscovered Bonds [1]
Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Blood brothers ending, Character Study, Drama, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Memories, Moral Ambiguity, POV First Person, Post-Canon, Translation in English
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24001408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endless_Torment/pseuds/Endless_Torment
Summary: Daniel and Sean reflect on their past and possible future together six years after crossing the Mexican border when Finn suddenly reappears in their lives.
Relationships: Daniel Diaz & Sean Diaz, Sean Diaz/Finn
Series: Rediscovered Bonds [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743988
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	1. Daniel

**Author's Note:**

> A translation of [Семейные узы](https://ficbook.net/readfic/8968926) by [Slepnusha](https://ficbook.net/authors/55991).

The sky-blue Mexican coast. The sun is almost below the horizon, barely reflected in the seawater. It's called the golden hour. I think Sean could have drawn this moment, even though he doesn't like images in color, and anyway, he went to fix another car an hour ago, leaving me to watch the sunset alone with a can of beer and my thoughts.

Today is the sixth anniversary of our escape from America. Is it time to sum up the rest...? Am I happy here? Is _Sean_ happy here? Would Dad be proud of us? Or would he be as judgmental as everyone else, like Karen, Claire and Stephen, who we had to throw out of our lives. It's their own fault, though. Our home is always open to our _family_ , except now it's only me and Sean. And the rest of them... _All of_ _them the same_ , the same as crazy Lisbeth, trying to control me, lecture me and, to some extent, even manipulate me.

Am I sorry about anything? I don't think so. Life has to be lived without regrets, or it won't bring any pleasure. Am I _satisfied_ with my life? Almost. The most important thing is that my brother is nearby, and everything else can be dealt with by throwing my hands forward and pressing the unwanted against a wall. It is a pity, however, that not all problems can be solved by force.

A crumpled can of beer flew into the kitchen's trash bin, and as I leaned back on the chair, I noticed dad's lighter and a pack of cigarettes that Sean usually carried on the windowsill. Should I try? Though, as a kid, it always pissed me off when Sean smelled like smoke. No, one smoker in the family is enough for us.

The lighter floated to my hand, and I stared down at it.

There's no God, just like Sean always told me, and then Lisbeth proved it, but maybe Dad is looking down on us from somewhere and is happy that we're in Puerto Lobos, his hometown, and still haven't left each other like he wanted. _The most important thing_ for a family is to always be together, no matter what. So let all those who disagree with it go to hell. And what methods we choose for this purpose should concern no one.

For a whole year after crossing the border, we were still trying to live “right”. We didn't have much money, and we didn't even have enough to get to Puerto Lobos. We had to stop at Nogales, even though it was bloody dangerous. Although, in Mexico, nobody gave a shit about us “illegal criminals”. On one hand, it's convenient when no one cares about you, but after America, it was a little unusual.

Sean had to work two jobs, at a small auto repair shop during the day, and at a nightclub in the evenings to feed us. During breaks, he hurriedly taught me Spanish, which I picked up on the fly, because there was no choice. When everyone around you speaks a foreign language, you need to remember it by heart. Also, by some unknown effort, Sean assigned me to a bilingual school, where incidentally many students dreamed of moving over the wall. However, despite Sean's reassurance, I didn't like it at all.

Like Sean had told me, I was the “cool kid from Seattle,” and many people loved me. Except I didn't need fake friends spending time with me just because I speak great English. I also saw no point learning stupid square roots unlikely to be useful to me in life, when my brother worked hard for a penny to save money so he could get us to Puerto Lobos. It reminded me of Humboldt when we worked tirelessly on that damn hemp farm and got a pittance for all our troubles. Except that damned Finn, with his crazy (if failed) idea of robbing Merrill, wasn't there. I had to take care of everything myself.

When I showed up at home with a backpack filled with bundles of pesos stolen from the principal's office, Sean was mad at first. He tried to explain to me it was wrong, that the money was probably intended for the development of the school or to help poor students, or something else virtuous. What always struck me about Sean was his sudden sense of justice. It's OK to rob local bandits who came to our house with ridiculous claims, but not OK to destroy the neighboring auto repair shop, our main competitor?

However, I expected that, so I specifically had a letter for him, printed directly from the computer of that idiot of a principal who, from a working laptop, agreed to purchase fake American passports in the name of his daughter and her husband. Spending school money to buy a “happy” ticket for your children, depriving their students — is that fair? I then reminded Sean how many times he'd been hung up on by the club and underpaid for repairs. It was time to build our own life, according to our own rules.

At that point Sean gave up, and we disappeared from Nogales as if we had never been there. Does anyone care about the fate of two no-man's children who live on someone's documents?

Dad's house met us with broken windows and crumbling old furniture. No one had lived there in a long time. Well, it was for the best. With my powers and the money we had, we got it up and running pretty quickly and almost immediately after, Sean got the idea to open an auto repair shop. With the skills he got from dad and the experience picked up in Nogales, he could do it. Especially since when we first got here, the cars were racing to get fixed in Caborca as there was nothing nearby. However, after seeing our success, the local craftsmen decided to make some extra money off of the repairing business too. Fools, is it possible to compete with the Diazes?

I immediately volunteered to help Sean with anything, with calculations (yes, I had to pull up math), filling out all the important paperwork and taking orders by phone. My brother refused, still cherishing the dream that I would go back to school and at least one of the Diazes would get a diploma. It was naïve of him to think I would waste time sitting in my pants at school listening to nonsense about Spanish literature or the laws of physics. It wouldn't explain where my power came from, and I had to take care of my _family._

Sean had been dragging it out for too long. After a year-long trip across America that ended happily on the Mexican border, that finally became apparent to me. So I, a twelve-year-old kid, in between playing PlayBox and reading Hawt Dawg Man comics, became my brother's chief assistant in the auto shop. And a kind of "roof".

Doing business in Mexico honestly and by the law was almost impossible. For about a year we lived peacefully, earning a little money repairing cars for the locals. That is until the ringleader of some gang, Gonzalo, who didn't like what parts (well, not the most expensive and high-quality ones I admit) Sean replaced in his car's battery. We really tried to solve the problem peacefully until the asshole pulled a knife on us and started threatening my brother. Well, he had his knife sticking out his side by the time I was done with him, his own fault really.

After this incident, rumors spread about us, accompanied by a few more skirmishes, and several months later Castor, leader of a group at war with the Gonzalo gang, offered us to join his "team". Sean and I thought long and hard about how to deal with all this, and I was glad my brother discussed it with me before deciding. He had finally started treating me like an adult.

Anyway, we accepted the invitation on the terms of “they don't bother us, we don't touch anyone,” and “if there is an opportunity to earn money–we are in business”.

Castor didn't agree with our demands at first and tried shooting us dead on the spot, but after stopping a few bullets in midair, he eventually relented. It's good to have someone like me in a gang and dangerous to have them as an enemy.

At first, we didn't contact any of the people who stayed in America. When we moved to Puerto Lobos, Sean wrote a few letters to Karen, Lyla, Jacob and Finn and even tried calling, but to no avail. No one answered back, no calls, no letters. In fact, I didn't really expect anyone to reply. Except Karen, really. Although, I could see _why_ no one wanted to answer. During our time in Nogales, all the newspapers in America were full of reports of an audacious massacre on the Mexican border.

I once asked Sean if we had become criminals, and he told me we had no choice, so he didn't think we were criminals. Neither do I. But everyone else probably did. And they're probably scared. I suppose it's hard to trust people who can destroy anyone who gets in their way, huh?

However, not long after we had moved to Puerto Lobos, Karen showed up out of nowhere. I was happy to see her, even though I knew about Sean's attitude toward her. He never forgave her, considering her responsible for much of our sufferings. Well, he had a right too. I didn't remember Karen at all when she left, so it was easier for me to love her, because it wasn't apparent to me that dad was coping with depression and it didn't become my responsibility to help raise a young child at eight-years-old.

The happiness, however, was short-lived, because no sooner after she showed me her true face. As soon as we had dined together on dad's pasta recipe, she questioned us about the choices we made. About the two people killed at the police station, the incident at the border, our life here and why I didn't go to school.

It was painful to see Sean try to find neat and truthful answers for her, and I knew he was trying for me, because he didn't really care what she thought. What was even more painful, however, is what she said next:

"I can understand everything because I don't fit into any social framework either, but your actions have crossed all _reasonable boundaries!_ To kill so many people and to _keep_ _doing it_ is bad."

After that, I freaked out. No one can tell me what's right and wrong. No one but my beloved older brother, who made it all the way to Mexico with me, and never said a word to me against it, even when I was being an asshole for believing Finn. And Sean believed him, too, and it hurt him a lot more.

Frankly, I don't hate Karen, Claire and Stephen. Yes, they left our lives, but without causing much pain. Though, it's a little sad to realize your older brother is the only one who loves and understands you. Losing the friends I made at home or on the road was no longer a surprise either. I'm used to it. Lyla, Noah, Sarah Lee... They all remained in a past, pre-border life. ~~(Except Chris)~~. They all didn't want to get in touch with us, scared, I guess.

No, the one who I hated with all my heart is Finn. He's the one I was closest to in Humboldt, the one who I thought I'd be friends with forever, the one whose opinion I ranked second after Sean's, the one my older brother once _loved_. The one who could have been part of our _family_ if he hadn't betrayed us. In fact, _he's to blame_ for Sean losing his eye. _Him_ , not me. There were two opposing desires in me: to wipe Finn off the face of the Earth and bring him here so that my beloved brother would be happy. I know he's exactly what Sean's missing here in Mexico.

When Sean, back in Away, told me about the kiss with Finn, and when he said it so casually as if it was just another piece about the hot weather in Arizona, I was, to put it mildly, in shock. But also glad, in fact, that my two best friends didn't hate each other, and quite the opposite. In Humboldt, Sean and Finn had some kind of strange rivalry, even though Sean had agreed to the robbery and had been friendly. I was sure that Sean hated Finn, and I said so outright, but Sean was confused saying that he _liked_ Finn, and I didn't know what he really meant.

When I sat alone in Haven Point, thinking about what had happened, I came to the sad conclusion that my brother, as always, had agreed to the robbery for my sake, and it was a temporary reconciliation for a common purpose.

It never occurred to me that Sean loved Finn. He was constantly being chased by an infatuated Cassidy, so I thought he would choose her. But Sean, as always, chose me and unfortunately Finn too. In Away, after I heard the good news about Finn and Sean kissing, I remember sitting with Joan and telling her how the three of us would live in Puerto Lobos, me, Sean and my second named older brother. Joan chewed me out back then, saying adult relationships were complicated and you shouldn't make such a big deal out of it... How right she was.

How many times did my brother try to call Finn, write to his brothers, all to no avail. Sean, he's a fighter, always has been. But then... he gave up a year after we got to Puerto Lobos. Sean stopped trying to get through to Finn, stopped talking about him and stopped remembering the cold nights in Humboldt. But he kept drawing him, even though he probably thinks I don't know about it.

Anyone who hurts me or my brother deserves the most severe punishment. Death.

Over the years, we have become almost invulnerable to physical pain, and I can always punish the guilty, those who come to _my family_ with bad intentions. My father was avenged by me years ago, Merrill died too (I hope so, at least), Lisbeth's neck wrung by my own "hands", and the fools who tried to stop us from crossing the border are also dead. Except... emotional wounds are harder to heal. Sean is still an _artist_ with an artistic nature. He's always so closed, rarely talking about his feelings and experiences to strangers, opening his heart to few, especially now. He hasn't even mentioned Finn's name for a long time, but his drawings, as always, speak for themselves.

However, I, who was already used to solving our more common problems, cannot help him this time. Would it have been easier with Cassidy? Hell no, she was an idiot… But enough with this endless whining. It's time to stop living in the past. I hope Sean can understand that someday, too.

My thoughts were interrupted by a phone call. Well, it's time to get back to work. Probably another customer.

I went back into the room to answer, but then I heard Sean's voice: "Hey, enano, put it on loud. Castor promised to call, he's got some business he wants to discuss, listen to me too, I need your opinion whether to get in on it."

I nodded and came to the phone and pressed the red button. Sean got out from under the car and raising his voice, answered, as usual in Spanish.

_"Díaz tienda de automóviles, estoy escuchando!"_

"Sweetie, you can speak any language you want, but I still recognize your voice and I'll always remember your last name."

The thirteen-millimeter wrench dropped from Sean's hand with a clatter. Half-washed cups with the remains of cocoa shattered, and the bathroom window cracked.

What the fuck is Finn McNamara doing showing up after all these years?

Sean jumped out from under the car and ran to the phone, apparently intending to turn off the speakerphone. I shook my head. No, let's listen to what this traitor has to say together.

Sean moved closer to the table and answered in a trembling voice in English.

"Hey, Finn. Haven't heard from you in a long time. How are you... how are you doing?"

"Honey, you've already started speaking English with a Spanish accent! You've completely forgotten your own speech, huh?" Clearing his throat, Finn continued, "I'm doing... pretty good, let's say. I just got out of jail and started looking for you and Daniel. You're doing pretty well in the Mexican sun, I take it? Can I stop by and see you?"

The frame that held my memorable red t-shirt clattered to the floor. Sean gripped the table with shaking hands and sank into a chair. He exhaled and spoke.

"Yes... The doors of our house are always open to you. Do you know the address?"

Finn laughed. Fucking jerk.

"Found it already, Google's been a big help. Well, I'm gonna go pack up then. You owe me a gala dinner the day after tomorrow to celebrate my release, sweetie! I'll see you later!"

The phone rang briefly, and Sean leaned against the table, his head in his hands.

I rushed toward him, flicking the phone off the table.

"Sean, what the fuck are you doing?! WHY did you call him here to our house?" I shouted, banging my fist on the table. "He didn't need us for six years, and then he just calls out of nowhere! He must have been fucking some cocaine bitches like Cass all this time, and they all must have left him after he went to jail! He doesn't have anyone to go to, and he just remembers 'handsome Diaz'?"

Sean covered my hand with his and I took notice of the warmth. Shit, he's all feverish!

"Enano, please don't say anything else. I know everything you're going to tell me, but please don't. Maybe you're right, but I don't know and I need to _see him._ " Sean's voice faltered, and he took a deep breath, "Bring me a bottle of whiskey, please, and leave me alone."

I yanked my hand away from his, threw it up in a frenzy, opening our mini-bar, and a bottle of brown liquid flew out on the table, almost shattering on impact.

"Sean, you stupid, naïve idiot! If he tells a _single lie_ , I'll kill him!"

My brother, without turning in my direction, said sadly:

"Even if _I_ get in your way...?"

I ran out of the house, slamming the door, and plopped down in one of the plastic chairs.

Well, Tuesday promises to be unforgettable.


	2. Sean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A translation of [Семейные узы](https://ficbook.net/readfic/8968926) by [Slepnusha](https://ficbook.net/authors/55991). If you like this translation then don't forget to give the author the credit she's due too, maybe drop by and give the original a thumbs up if possible. Haha. Anyway, enjoy.

The sun was scarcely up, turning the sea blood-red. It's still early, not even seven o'clock. Daniel is asleep, he's always been a sleeper, because _at home_ he can afford it. Play up to three o'clock on the PlayBox after doing a little work with cash books and then sleep until twelve. Today _is an ordinary_ day for him, so he didn't change his habits.

I'm on my feet smoking a third cigarette and trying to paint a bloody dawn. It's supposed to distract me from my confused thoughts, but, in fact, I'm still going back to the recent phone call. Finn is coming to see us today and I don't know what will come of all this. I can't understand why Daniel's so against him. I mean, they were friends, kind of. I even felt like I lost my “favorite big brother” status for a while, but now he's practically ready to murder him on sight and _I don't know why._

Daniel's powers have long since stopped frightening me, but this attitude is alien to me. We've been through so much hell together that it's foolish to be afraid of my brother. Whatever powers he has. Even though Daniel doesn't listen to me often, he always does everything for our benefit. Perhaps I give him too much leeway, but I've always done this, haven't I? Just like my father asked me to. Is that why he had always been proud of me? I wonder if he would have raised Daniel to be just as arrogant and self-confident. Or would he have been more like me, once a quiet and battered kid, and now the tamer of a dangerous "super-wolf"?

You can't stay naïve and simple-minded in Puerto Lobos or _trust_ anyone like Karen or Agent Flores. On the road Daniel and I learned to _survive_ , and this skill came in handy. Stupid dreams of a career as an artist are long buried. You need to be more down to earth. Actually, I'm glad that I repair cars, just like my dad. A few times we had clients who even said I looked like Esteban Diaz, who lived in this house so many years ago.

So, fixing cars is also an art to some extent. In which nothing can happen _without love_. That's why I don't trust Daniel to fix anything. He's always in a hurry to get somewhere, uses his power and does everything too abruptly, with pressure and aggression. You can't do that. Art is a kind of therapy. That's probably why my hand draws a silhouette of a guy with dreadlocks bathing in the scarlet Mexican sun.

I wonder what Finn is like now. As kind and happy as he's always been? Or have the years broken him down, and he's coming to me because I'm his last hope for coconut cocktails in Costa Rica…? I don't want to believe everything Daniel tried to push on me yesterday. Finn could have really been in jail. In fact, I would have been in jail a long time ago too if it weren't for Daniel's powers.

Whatever the reason Finn went there, he did the right thing. As always. To serve time for the mistakes of his father, to avenge the two wolf brothers and not turn them in to the police, to always be true to his dream.

How often do I act on my conscience? Although, I'm not sure if I still have it. It's easier to live without it. I must have buried it somewhere in Seattle, next to my father's grave.

I always said that we had no choice. Who knows what would have happened to us if I had given up at the border. I don't think Daniel would have listened to me. Otherwise, I would have set a bad example for him. I was the one who wanted to go to Mexico and to turn back at the very end? Never give up and fight to the last—that's what I've always tried to teach my little brother. That is why we are here now, in our father's homeland, together. I don't think I could have gotten here without Daniel. I wouldn't be happy here without him, without my family.

Yes, Daniel was not very enthusiastic about fleeing to Puerto Lobos at first, but now he hardly remembers America. What's left for us over the Mexican border, anyway? Lyla, my once best friend and Daniel's favorite, who I tried desperately to keep in touch with even while on the run, but eventually responded with a short letter saying "I'm sorry Sean, but I'm scared."?

Stephen and especially Claire, who kept trying to appeal to God's laws and Christian morals, even after what happened to Daniel at Haven Point?

Karen, who tried to teach us about life after eight years of not giving a damn? A month in Away, rambling excuses and an unnecessary attempt at self-sacrifice couldn't bring us back a father and a carefree childhood or reestablish a familial bond.

Jake, who I gave the last of my money to, so he could cure his little sister of her pneumonia? Haven't heard from either of them since we got here and Daniel had waited weeks for at least another postcard from Sarah Lee at first.

Brody, who despite his statement of wanting to travel to countries outside the U.S. has yet to make Mexico one of them?

Cassidy, to whom I was just another sweet city boy?

Finn? Yeah… Finn. He stayed on the other side. Well, he better be on that side.

Maybe if I kept writing to him, I'd have heard from him sooner. Finn couldn't have been in prison for six years, could he? Why would he go to jail right after we escaped to Mexico? I mean, he was just sentenced to community service. I guess I should have just been a little patient and waited for him here. Trusted him more, not just my brother, something I've completely forgotten to do. Lately, however, I'd almost given up hope, which is a shame. How long did dad wait for Karen? Eight years? And he would have waited longer if he hadn't died.

A year was enough for me. Though, we promised nothing to each other. No love until the grave, just 'maybe we'll see each other again someday'. After all, only wolves are monogamous for life and Finn said that he often loses his head when meeting new people. How many of these people had he met in all that time? Personally, I don't know anyone who's like Finn here. All around you are thugs who're more than happy to kill you to make more money. I'm still not one of them though, and I hope I never will be. You can go to extreme measures for the sake of freedom. For love. For family.

Many times on my way to Mexico, I did questionable if not terrible things. I lied to my father to get more money for a stupid party and to fucking Flores to protect the people I cared about. Stole a Chock-O-Crisp and camping gear from a gas station and then money from a local drug dealer. Beat up my racist asshole of a neighbor Brett and the equally racist gas station owner Hank. Killed, albeit not with my own hands, Lisbeth, a fanatic and a bunch of cops on the Mexican border.

At some point I probably could have stopped Daniel, taught him to be better, more kind, more law-abiding. But is it fairer? Does justice often go hand in hand with the law?

"They all deserve it," my brother used to love to say. That's how it is. This crazy world, and especially America, doesn't need good people. She will chew you up and spit you out, and you will be left with nothing, never achieving the "American Dream". Although the states was once my homeland, I do not consider it so now. Mexico is the country where the free and happy Sean and Daniel Diaz were born.

A few years ago Castor and I went to a meeting with another newly formed gang that already raised a huge amount of profit in the stolen car trade and had decided the Diaz Repair Shop would interfere with their breakneck success. So while Daniel and I were away (for the first time, we went to the capital for a few days, for a change), our house was smashed and looted completely. The garage flooded with water from broken pipes, filled with painted threats, broken furniture, smashed dishes and picture frames. Fortunately, I brought with me my most valuable possession; my sketchbook and photos of my young father, which miraculously had remained in the house all this time.

Naturally, we went to investigate, and it was there that we were met with an ambush. I felt a strange mixture of admiration and awe for my brother. Sure, Daniel had already proven himself before by smashing the cops on the border, but at that moment, however, I was not happy. The main idea was just getting to Mexico. Here though, as a fourteen-year-old kid, he literally wiped out that poor tavern where we were trying to negotiate something and whose owner, poor Pablo, foolishly shot me with a bullet right in the stomach while Daniel was distracted by the others. That group was destroyed by him, as if it had never existed.

After that Castor told me I had 'raised my own personal demon'. This is not true. Personally, I still see him as my favorite little enano who just wants to protect his most valuable thing, his family. I've always taught him this, always followed this rule, and he seems to have learned it quite well. It becomes a little scary however when you realize that there are absolutely no boundaries for it. But all boundaries are in our heads.

I used to think I was happy with my life here and didn't particularly like to remember what happened to us in America before. Here we started over from scratch and have been quite successful in it. The only thing is… the upcoming reunion scares me a little. What does Finn expect me to be like? I'm ready to take him anywhere, but won't he be scared by what he sees here?

If Finn really had been in prison all that time, it was unlikely that news of the border massacre and other things had reached him. Yeah, Finn himself was never a model law-abiding citizen, but what if he changed for the better, unlike us, anyway? I desperately want to believe that since he decided to come here, maybe he doesn't care who we've become?

But… if something goes wrong, Daniel may well freak out, and I'm not sure I can stop him this time. I don't think my brother fully understands how precious Finn has become to me since the time we spent in Humboldt. He was the only one of the Trimmigrants who valued family ties and so desperately needed them. Maybe he even needed me. Is it still mutual? Who knows…

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a car stopping on the side of the street.

Damn, it must be Andreas. I tried to make the most of today, but this dude is unpredictable. He is constantly driving on the broken roads of Puerto Lobos, and his engine is always flying. He also has a stupid habit of showing up at my place in the early morning. Well, money is never superfluous.

When I came around the corner of the house to the road, I was a little surprised. Strange, it doesn't look like Andreas's car. It's a half-broken red pickup truck. It's been a long time since I've seen a car like that around here, and the numbers are American.

Wait, a minute…

The door on the driver's side opened, and Finn stepped out. He really came here, and so quickly, I was waiting for him only until the evening. No, I was waiting for him until the end of this damn life.

Finn turned his head toward the house, and his face lit up.

"Sean Diaz! You haven't changed at all, just as handsome as ever!"

He ran up to me and wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace. Man, Finn hasn't changed at all, he still likes to touch people. He no longer smelled of grass though, just cigarettes and cheap strawberry shampoo mixed with the strong aroma of coffee that had probably helped him get to Puerto Lobos so quickly.

This scene probably looks stupid from an outsiders perspective. A one-eyed man covered in scars desperately clinging to a taller man with ridiculous dreadlocks and a blinding smile.

"Are you trying to flirt with me, like always, or is this just your way of communicating now?" I asked without thinking. Hell, that sounded ridiculous, but I wanted to know the answer to that.

Finn laughed and rubbed his nose against my cheek. "Silly, I haven't flirted with anyone for six years and it's not because I didn't have a chance to," he answered pulling away to look at me, "but you probably wasted no time here! A hot Mexican with his own workshop probably has a lot of girls on his hands!"

I shook my head. "You won't believe it, but no. No one could get past Daniel's face control. He'd throw out anyone who didn't meet his criteria for the perfect girlfriend of his favorite brother."

Finn slapped me on the shoulder.

"Whoa, so maybe I won't pass, either." he hesitated and then continued. "Did you switch roles or something? Now he's baby Sean's super-caring big brother?"

"Yeah, well, that makes sense. It's not that I can't take a step without Daniel, but… I try not to fight with him as much as possible. I'm tired of cleaning up broken dishes and buying new cups."

My eyes dropped to my watch. It was nearly nine o'clock. Early enough for Daniel, but the noise from the car might have woken him up or something. Better get in the house as soon as possible.

Deciding to change the subject, I waved at the pickup truck. "Hey, you got a nice car! Better get it in the garage before it becomes the property of local thieves."

Finn spread his hands and came back to me.

"I've already stolen it from some gawky weirdo!" He added, grabbing my arm and leading me to the house. "You know, it was a thoughtful move! Like, cut off the escape routes! If you don't want me here, then I can't go back to America anyway, and you'll just have to put up with my presence, ha-ha!"

I just chuckled and walked towards the garage.

"I hope that's just a stupid joke."

Finn shrugged his shoulders and went back to the pickup truck.

"All right, all right, Shonnie-boy, I got it from my brothers. I hope that's irrevocable!"

When I walked into the house, I made my way to the stove. So what should I get him? Tea or something stronger?

"Finn, do you want anything? Tea, beer or I don't know. Tequila…?"

"Woah, I remember the gala dinner you owe, but it's not even time for breakfast!" he remarked, coming into the kitchen. "And you have a cool garage. You can tell by just looking at this place you're serious about business and honestly, I'd rather have coffee. I drove all night without sleeping."

I looked through the lockers just in case. Yeah, we don't have it as usual.

"Unfortunately, all I can offer is cocoa. Daniel still loves coffee, so he drinks in liters."

Finn nodded and sat down at the table, looking at the walls hung with posters and of my drawings.

"It's cool that you're still drawing. That one, stylized as actual wolf brothers, is awesome! I don't know which one of you two turned out better in this drawing!"

After putting two smoking cups on the table, I sat in front of Finn, and couldn't help but stare at him. The same unruly dreadlocks, the same three triangles under his left eye and the same relaxed pose. But those sky-blue eyes were harder, and the lines on his brow tightened. I wonder how old he is. I've never asked myself that question. When is his birthday?

Finn caught my gaze.

"So, am I still your type? Or have I gotten old, and I'm no longer fit for anything? You've only gotten cooler over the years, I'm serious. Didn't I tell you before that scars make you hotter? And that stylish prosthesis is a lot better than a white hospital bandage, I'm telling you."

"Er, thank you…?"

"Well, you've never been good at accepting compliments." Finn chuckled. "So, how are you guys doing here, anyway? What have you been up to these past years? Just fixing cars, or did you start off with something else?"

I thought for a moment. It's probably unnecessary to tell him everything right off the bat, but it would be hard for him not to notice our safe under a pile of folders. Besides, maybe he doesn't want to hear what I'll tell him? I'll just take one step at a time and see where things go from there.

"Well, at first I worked part time at a nightclub and an auto repair shop when we were in Nogales, then when we got here I decided to start my own business. And so-"

"We're doing a little banditry," Daniel interrupted, coming down from the second floor. "Stealing, killing, all in the best traditions, but we don't steal cars though, that's your specialty, we just fix them up."

I covered my face with my hands and groaned. "Thank you, enano, your honesty is more than ever, 'to the point,' and good morning to you, too. Were you eavesdropping?"

He shook his head. "No, it's just that someone was making too much noise driving his jalopy in _our_ garage."

Finn stood up and held out his hands in a welcoming gesture.

"Little Daniel, you're not mincing words, as always! Well, at least you know how to joke around now instead of taking everything so seriously."

Daniel walked past him without even a sideway glance and poured himself what was left of the cocoa, sat down at the table to my right, then answered.

"Do you think I'm joking now?" he asked flatly. Finn coughed, not knowing what to say, and Daniel continued, "Good, now let's skip the preliminaries. Where the hell have you been all this time, and why did you ignore my brother?"

Finn sipped some cocoa and folded his hands on the table. "Well, I thought we'd start with something a little nicer, like the weather in Puerto Lobos and the most beautiful view from the window, but since Danny insists… While you were out here enjoying the sea, I was doing time for robbing Merrill."

I broke out in a sweat. But how? That's not possible, is it? I was sure I'd saved Finn from that.

"Wait, why? I took the blame, said I planned it all by myself!"

Daniel shot me a murderous look and Finn's cup broke, spilling the last of the cocoa on the new tablecloth. Yeah, nothing new. When will he learn to control his emotions?

"You didn't tell me about that," Daniel said through gritted teeth. I shrugged my shoulders. What difference does it make, especially now?

Finn stared blankly at the brown smudge spreading across the table.

"Well, agent Flores took your statement, alone, and without even recording it on a tape recorder so no one could confirm your words after her death at the border. Then when Merrill died a few months after you two escaped, it was just me and his well-to-do relatives who were eager to put the man responsible for the death of their beloved son and brother behind bars. I didn't have the money for a good lawyer, you know. So my sentence was hastily changed from community service to five and a half years in real time. I only got out a month ago."

Daniel turned the empty mug thoughtfully in his hands.

"Well, I've never studied American law, so I don't know if I should believe you. But to be honest, your story sounds like complete bullshit."

Finn jumped up from the table and clasped his hands in a pleading gesture.

"Shit, Daniel, why would I lie to you? Do you think I really forgot you two? I thought about you every goddamn day, not knowing if you ever made it to Mexico, whether you were still alive. In prison, you know, they don't give out free Wi-Fi!"

Daniel raised his voice, articulating his words.

"Sit. In. Your. Fucking. Seat."

Finn, a little taken aback by what had happened, sank back into his chair, while Daniel exhaled and added, "I have no reason to trust you. _You_ got us involved in that stupid heist. It's _your fault_ my brother has only one eye. _You're_ …"

I closed my eye. Oh, my God, what is he talking about?

Turning sharply to Daniel, I grabbed him by the shoulder and pleaded, "Enano, wake up! It wasn't his fucking fault! It was _me_ , thinking we could get the money we needed, who agreed to it and let you down, even though I was responsible for you! It was _me_ who got you involved in that heist! It was _me_ who couldn't stop you from freaking out when Merrill shot you!"

Suddenly, Finn shook his head and covered my hand with his.

"No, honey, Daniel's right about everything. My guilt is huge, I've already redeemed myself before the law, and now I'm trying to beg forgiveness from you two," Finn said to Daniel in a hushed tone. "You know, your brother already forgave me, saying that at least I tried to get closer to my dream. Maybe he's changed his mind about it, so I'll say it again: I apologize. To the both of you. For all the pain I've caused you then and in these six years. You two are like the family I've been dreaming of for so long…"

"DON'T YOU _DARE_ TALK ABOUT FAMILY! YOU DON'T DESERVE TO BE PART OF OUR FAMILY!" he screamed, jumping to his feet and glaring at Finn with such hatred the man flinched.

With those words, Daniel lifted Finn in the air like he did with Lisbeth at Haven Point.

Not wasting anytime I threw myself towards Finn as Daniel started constricting his airflow.

"Daniel, fucking stop it! He's in pain! You're going to kill him!" I screamed as Finn choked and clawed away at nothing.

My brother turned his glare to me. There was fury in his eyes.

"Weren't _you_ in pain when he betrayed you? Didn't you grieve for him for _years?!_ " He cried out.

"Listen to me… Daniel." Finn spoke, wheezing. "I always thought… that you and I were… alike. If you… love your brother as much… as I love him… then _please_ _forgive me_. Even if you… haven't forgiven anyone in a long time. I swear I'll… never leave you again."

Suddenly, Daniel's gaze softened, and Finn fell to the ground.

Turning away, my brother muttered.

"I don't care anymore. You two figure this out yourselves."

Finn rubbed his neck and gave me a weak smile.

"So, that's what those English-speaking guys at the gas station meant when they told me to be careful with the Diazes… They're kind of scared of you."

Daniel hummed. "You should be, too. But, apparently, with a defender like my brother around, that's impossible," he stated, walking to the open door that led to the terrace, "and don't think I've forgiven you so quickly, you asshole! You'll make me coffee every morning and say thank you to this naïve idiot!"

With that said, Daniel slammed the door shut behind him and I leaned over to Finn.

"Damn, he had a hell of a go at you. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Daniel hasn't learned how to control himself," I apologized profusely as I examined him. Bruises all around his neck. "What should I do? Hell, did he break anything?"

I just didn't know what to say or how to help him. Knowing Daniel and his stupid belief that he's doing what's best for both of us when he's deciding for me, I expected he might freak out, but not to _this_ extent! Finn's words must have really got to him.

I rushed to the garage looking for a first aid kit. Hell, what do I want in there?

"Hey, Sean, forget it! I got a great idea!" Finn called out to me, his voice still strangled.

I went back to him and looked at him questioningly. Ice? I might have a little left over for whiskey.

Finn broke into a ridiculous smile.

"Kiss me, Sean Diaz. Give me a kiss, and it'll all go away."

"Are you like serious now?!"

He just pulled me to him.

"I couldn't be more serious. You're not the only one who's been waiting for this for six years."


	3. Finn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I'm not as confident with how this chapter turned out in comparison to the others I'm proud to finally put this translation fic to an end and hopefully there will be more to come.

_After several months_

Waking up, I see an ordinary cracked ceiling in front of me, not fucking prison bars. Shit, it's fucking nice to finally be free.

I turn to my right side and oh, _bingo_ , Sean's still asleep. It's rare because he usually wakes up before me and doesn't even wake me up ("Get some rest, you deserve a good night's sleep after five years in a prison bed"), but goes swimming or swinging alone because he's still steaming about being _weaker than_ his younger brother.

Oh, my sweet Sean, you're already the strongest person I know. How could anyone else stand that crazy race all over America with a little brother in their arms?

Damn, he was beautiful. I rarely get to look at them. To study all those curves, scars, tattoos... I have more of them, but they're random, sometimes even meaningless, made on the spur of the moment. It's clear that Sean approached the case with intelligence, probably even according to his sketches. I should ask who gave it to him. One of them, on his left arm, a heart, realistic to the horror, pulsating with a bunch of veins and arteries, but bleeding out. The other, on the right biceps, is a winding snake with its mouth open and its tongue sticking out, ready to destroy anyone who approaches even a millimeter. And the wolves, two giant wolves all over his back. I heard Sean discussing with Daniel that he wanted to add something to it. Is it really _me_? What animal does he associate me with, I wonder? Actually, who'd have thought a sweet boy at the Christmas fair scared of Cassidy's flirtations would be like that?

Sean slowly opened his eyes and flinched when he saw me.

"Dude, you scared the hell out of me. Who in their right mind stares at someone while they're asleep?"

I ran a flirtatious finger down his torso.

"I've never denied that I'm a little crazy. You've always loved that about me, haven't you?"

Sean stretched hard and sat up on the bed, glancing at his watch.

"Damn, I'm behind schedule. I slept through training, and I still have three orders for today. Anyway, I'm off."

I grunted and tugged at the blanket he was sitting on.

"Sean, I'm trying to hit on you and you're ignoring me! Come on honey, how about another round before you go to work?"

He turned to me and straightened my dreadlocks, which had been disheveled during our night of fun, and added with a sly smile:

"I think if we wake Daniel up, who threw a PlayBox controller at our wall last night because our moaning was stopping him from getting past the final boss, you might get a few more bruises besides the ones already on your wrists."

"You shouldn't have pinned me so hard against the bed, that's all!" I shrugged, not admitting to him I loved the hell out of it. Sean still got out of bed and went to the closet, picking up his signature black t-shirt with the silhouette of a wolf. I decided to change the subject and remind him of what I was a little worried about recently. "Listen, let me at least help you with that white jeep today, and well, it'll be easy, just the starter is worn out, I can replace it!"

Sean's expression was thoughtful. He wouldn't even let Daniel near the repair shop, which pissed the little guy off to no end and sometimes threw empty beer cans at him for it. I tried to help Sean a few times, and got his favorite excuse: "I'll do it", "go for a swim," "hang out with Daniel," or whatever. Damn, does he really not trust me in this at all?

"Dude, I can really do this! I swear, Andreas won't even notice the repairs weren't done by the main beauty of The Diaz workshop, just his mega charismatic assistant!"

Sean scratched the back of his head, looking sideways.

"Okay, I don't mind. Frankly, _I've never_ been against it, just… Don't force yourself, I'm used to doing everything myself. I know you want to help, but... doesn't it bring back bad memories? Like when you were a kid, when you had to gut cars so your dad could resell them?"

Oh, my sweet, caring Sean! So that's why he wouldn't let me enter the workshop! After all these years, I've forgotten all about it. The past can't be undone, we must move forward. But if I don't help Sean with his work, and our nights remain _active_ , my favorite Mexican won't last long.

"Not at all, it's all in the past and I don't care at all. So it's a deal, and now Finnegan McNamara is officially allowed to enter the inner sanctum of this house!"

Sean laughed, tossing me his shirt as he went into the shower.

"Could you make something for breakfast, please? If I'm hanging out in the kitchen too, I won't have time to do anything."

I got out of bed and went to the window. I glanced out and looked at the beach outside.

The sea beat against the sandy shore, leaving fanciful patterns in the sand. While there aren't any coconut cocktails here, Sean made a great "tequila sunrise", which was one of the most popular drinks in local bars. Hell, could I have imagined back then, sitting by a campfire in Humboldt and staring into the fathomless eyes of the ever-embarrassed dark-haired Mexican, that he would be the one to make my dreams come true? And it's not about the cocktails.

Even though I always tried to be the undisputed leader, the happy-go-lucky guy ready for anything, in my heart I was still that confused boy, just out of prison after his first term, so desperate for a home, brothers, and _family_. Dillon was left far behind. My father betrayed me, and my brothers went their separate ways.

People came and went out of my life, and over time I got used to it, but I still hoped in my heart that eventually I would find someone who would want to stay with me for more than a night. And then, along the way, I met Sean Diaz, a cute boy in an orange sweater who gave me just one kiss, which was worth more than all the nights spent with others. He was the only person I ever felt at _home_ with. Whether it's on a lake or by a campfire in Humboldt, in a Northern California hospital, or here in sunny Mexico. A house is not a place, but a _person._

Sometimes I envy his relationship with Daniel. Did anyone love me as much as Sean loved Daniel? My father who ratted me out the first chance he got? No, I guess he still hated me, because my mother, his beloved Shelly, died during my birth. My brothers who hung out with and even pampered me, but most likely only because I was a sweet and kind kid, ready to help them whenever needed. How can you not love a small and nimble boy who gets into cars so easily to help steal them, and can't say _no_?

Over the years, I've learned to say no, not that it made life any easier. Despite this, however, I still tried to keep and remember all the good things that happened in my childhood, and forget the things that caused me to give up my _family_. My brothers, they're all different, but so much like Cass and Hannah; easy to wake up, change their place of residence, and their partners in bed. I used to be like this too, knowing that it was the norm, as it should be. Although something in me was desperate for something _permanent_. Someone who wouldn't leave me.

When I learned from agent Flores in the hospital that I was supposed to be on _probation_ because _I wasn't the one_ who planned the robbery, I was in complete shock. How could Sean, who had only known me for a couple of months at the most, and who had lost an eye and his brother, _because of me_ , take the blame for the crime I had encouraged him to commit? What is it if not a fucking love that doesn't know the word why?

Prison was shitty. Easier than the first time, but it still sucked. A few familiar faces here and there, the rest were beaten up assholes, the same classes every day, and small skirmishes that sometimes turn into fights and a constant struggle for a place in the sun and for your dignity, for that you are still a person. This, however, wasn't the most difficult part of my incarceration. It was that I didn't have a single visitor in all that time.

My brothers, who lived in different parts of America, never found a moment to scribble a few lines of inspiration. My second named family, which comprised of Cass, Hannah, and Penny, fell apart without me. The only thing that connected us was an inexorable longing for freedom. Only we all had a very different concept for that word. Everybody ran away, forgetting their unforgettable leader. Or maybe I was the only one who saw me as one. Cassidy thought I was a complete egoist, Hannah—I was just a good bedmate, and Penny—I was a funny and stoned friend. Did any of them ever look into my _soul_?

My heart had been aching because I didn't know what had happened to Sean and Daniel. Did they reach the city of their dreams, Puerto Lobos? Are they still together? Are they alright?

An indescribable calm came over me when I was released from prison, and after two hours of searching the darknet, I found a tiny note about the Diaz brothers auto repair shop, ready not only to fix your car cheap but also deal with anyone who messes with them. At least they _achieved_ their goal. They're alive, healthy, and most likely _happy_.

When I arrived in Puerto Lobos, I saw that their family ties were still strong. It's been a long time, and they've both grown up, but they're still the closest thing in the world to each other. The way Sean makes sure that Daniel doesn't catch a cold swimming in the ocean at night, cooks him breakfast in the morning, buys his favorite chock-o-crisps and joking that such a serious kid shouldn't load up on chocolate bars while watching a stupid cartoon.

Sean's always been like that—sensitive, caring, understanding. I'm surprised how he kept all those positive qualities after what he went through. Although, he's not like that with customers. Not like himself _at all_ , even intimidating, in a way. It is only at home, with our _family_ , that we can be ourselves.

A couple of times I've seen him talk to customers who don't want to pay. Cold, appraising eyes, confident, sharp movements, broken phrases in Spanish, the meaning of which is clear even without translation. And somewhere else in the room—Daniel, focused, listening to the dialogue and ready to lift everything into the air at any moment. He's always anxious about his brother. He tries to spend almost all his time with him, helping with business in the auto shop, hanging out in the garage and listening to Sean, who sometimes tries to teach him how to repair without using his powers.

Sometimes Daniel literally doesn't leave Sean's side, and the Jr.'s hyper-custody of his brother one is a little weird. Although Daniel, who is used to _losing_ people dear to him, can also be understood. In Mexico, so different from the pious America, it is dangerous to stay alone, an easy way to get yourself killed.

In the three months I've been in Puerto Lobos, everything has been calm, the days marked by the splashing keys and the noise of the sea. However, I was aware that it wasn't just car repairs that Sean and Daniel made their living. Almost immediately, Daniel, in his blatantly mocking manner, told me about their deal with the local leader Castor. I remember he asked me then:

"Are you in? Or will you hear nothing, see nothing and know nothing about any of this?"

I shivered at the look in his eyes. Usually, Daniel still acts like a normal teenager, except that he doesn't go to school. I wasn't a frequent guest there too, since I had to, well, "help" my family. He still gets lazy with his brother, playing games, reading comics and watching porn. However, for the safety of his brother, his family, he becomes a real monster, ready to drive a potential threat to the very edge, and then with pleasure destroy it. Even then, Daniel looked at me as if he were saying, "One wrong word and you're dead".

With deliberate indifference, I shrugged my shoulders.

"Are you asking the chief specialist in robbing drug dealers? Of course I'm in! Together and to the end, as I promised your brother!"

Daniel calmed down and looked thoughtfully at the garage where Sean was working.

"Well, does that mean I have to keep an eye on you so you don't get your head blown off?... There's no way around it. If you get hurt, Sean would never forgive me."

Actually, Daniel and I have a very complicated relationship. We kind of hung out a lot together, relaxed on the beach, played games and talked nonsense. Except I knew he still didn't trust me, and sometimes I felt his gaze scrutinize me.

I'm used to remembering him as a restless nine-year-old boy, so much _like me_ as a kid. The Daniel who used his powers to hit a bullseye with a knife or played with cones. He was the one I made friends with. In Mexico, I was met by a self-righteous 16-year-old teenager throwing people he and his brother didn't like against the wall, stopping bullets on the fly, and also _hated_ me. There's no way I could combine these two images in my head.

The Diaz brothers switched roles, to some extent. Sean focused on what he loved (even if drawing had become a hobby), spent all his time in the auto shop, and Daniel protected his peace of mind day and night. I could understand _why_ Daniel was so against me at first. It didn't fit into his frame of reference why he should accept into _his family_ a man who had left them so many years ago and thus betrayed his beloved brother.

I remember the day after I arrived, we were together the other night on the beach, and I kissed Sean on the shoulder while he painted the sunset, and Daniel's face was full of confusion. Later that day, I asked him what was going on. Maybe he's having trouble accepting that we're both guys.

Daniel, to my surprise, answered honestly.

"In all these years here, I've gotten used to the fact that my brother doesn't let anyone near him. Not that he's afraid of anyone, no, he just doesn't trust anyone but me. And here, you're sitting right next to him, touching him, and he doesn't even flinch, just smiles and continues drawing. I always knew what he was missing, but I didn't realize how much." his eyes turned cold again. "Don't you dare let him down. I'm starting to think he needs you more than he needs me. It hurts."

With Sean, it was insanely easy for me. It's as if the six years we spent apart flew by unnoticed. With me around, he becomes that sixteen-year-old teenager I first met, only more confident in himself and my _feelings for_ him. Our first kiss was brief and indecisive, and now Sean is usually the first to reach for me and does not want to let go, as if afraid that I'll disappear. He learned to react calmly to my playful nicknames and sudden compliments, even answered me in the same playful manner.

In the evenings, when Sean wasn't busy in the garage and Daniel wasn't in his jealous brother mode, we often sat side by side on the beach drinking cans of beer. Like back then on our last night in Humboldt. However, now there were no empty doubts, stupid persuasions and unfulfilled promises. Only the endless sea and an exciting _tomorrow_.

I remember that on the day of my arrival, in the late afternoon, we sat at a festive table (God, Sean is a delicious cook, but he was always _perfect_ at everything), and the brothers had been recalling funny stories about their working days. I literally started nodding off, as the last day I drove to Mexico without sleeping, staying up on coffee and energy drinks. Sean noticed this and asked cautiously:

"Finn, you must be tired. I, uh... can make you a bed down here or, uh," he stumbled, getting another slanting look from Daniel, but continued. "In my room. My bed's a little narrow, but I can sleep with Daniel, or here..."

I interrupted him with a playful wink.

"Kid, do you really think I drove so many miles to sleep alone on an old couch?"

Daniel rolled his eyes and tapped his fingers on the table.

"Ugh, don't be such stereotypical idiots in love. I'm getting nauseous. It's a good thing you didn't act like that in Humboldt," the little one threw me a mocking look. "If you'd been so hard on Sean at the farm, I wouldn't have been friends with you."

I successfully parried Daniel's lunge.

"I guess I did it so _clumsily_ that it took even Sean more than a month to notice," I yawned, and realized it was time to go to bed as I almost plopped my nose on my plate in exhaustion. "So I'm sleeping in your room, Shonnie-boy?"

Sean looked at me thoughtfully. There was a faint flicker of emotion in his eyes. Desire?

"All right, if _you insist_."

I got up from the table, and as I walked up the stairs, I heard Daniel screaming behind me.

"DON'T you dare go in my room on the right! If you do, you're dead for sure, despite all your exhortations today!"

Sean's room greeted me with a cozy semi-darkness, through which I could still make out a small wardrobe, a rack of books whose spines were full of names I couldn't read, and a bed small for both of us. Well, never mind. Maybe Sean would really spend the night alone downstairs. I couldn't bear to just fall asleep.

I buried my face in the pillows and smelled the faint scent of engine oil mixed with musk and spices. Is that what you smell like now, Sean Diaz? Not the damn cannabis mixed with the sweetness of baby gum that Daniel loved so much. Although, I once found it insanely _alluring_.

In my sleep, I thought I heard some incomprehensible fragments of phrases in Spanish, and then I blacked out completely. Just for a moment, I was awakened by a strong embrace, and Sean's barely audible words:

"God, I've missed you s _o much_ , Finn..."

In the morning, these touches and whispers seemed like a silly nighttime fantasy, and only the second blanket, thrown back on the right side of the bed, said otherwise.

When did I become such a romantic? When did innocent hugs and fleeting kisses mean more to me than sex? Although, that's not to say that in bed, Diaz wasn't _incomparable_. Even then, our first time, Sean was so insanely awkward, but so persistent and impatient. It was Sean who first took the initiative while I waited patiently for him to be ready. It was worth it. I guess the day I first saw that shy guy in Beaver Creek passionately drawing something in his sketchbook changed my life forever.

On my way to Humboldt, when me and Cass accidentally ran into the Diazes, I realized I shouldn't fuck up, not this time. Sometimes, really, in the most depressing moments of my life, I thought maybe I deserved all the shit constantly being dumped on me. That it was my fault my mother died, that my dad and my brothers got caught, _that no one wanted me_. I'm just the scum of society, and when I die, nobody's going to remember me...? And then I became friends with Daniel, who, admitted to me, felt guilty that his mother left him. That their dad was shot by a _cop_.

I saw him as a small man, and I was desperate to prove to him, to _myself,_ that life is a shitty thing, but it's worth living it with pleasure every day, forgetting all the bad things. And that we all deserve to be happy no matter what. Daniel might not have completely forgiven me yet, but I'm sure he'll come around in time. You can't sulk forever, can you?

Then, on our last night on the farm, I hadn't told Sean everything. I was so careful with my choice of words, always changing the subject when I called him a cute nickname because I was afraid to hear "no". I used to be cool with rejection. After all, there are endless interesting people on the planet. But people like Sean Diaz just don't fucking exist. I knew that if I didn't confess to him, I'd be regretting it for the rest of my fucking life.

The robbery idea was a big mistake but... who knows, maybe if I hadn't talked to Sean about it, our paths would have parted forever. I thought about it for a long time when I was sitting alone while everyone was having fun at the party. When Sean finally came up to me smiling, I knew it was now or never. I really wanted both of them, Sean and Daniel, to stay with me. Unfortunately, I saw no other way but to rob Merrill.

At the hospital, of course, I was immeasurably sorry about what happened, knowing that I'd fucked up again. I never dreamed Sean would show up outside my room, still be able to smile at me so sweetly, _forgive_ me, and even hope for our next meeting. I was so grateful to him for all of this, for giving me a second chance.

In that moment I was no longer afraid to tell him how I felt. I had to convince him that that kiss wasn't just some meaningless distraction. And he believed me, damn it! And he still has, after six years! I apologized to him more than once for not being able to get in touch and Sean usually just joked around it, saying it was just some kind of _long-distance relationship_ , but one day, he said warmly:

"You know, when I was a kid, I used to take good things for granted. Home, dad, friends... But the path here showed me things should be valued and protected and sometimes, you need to wait. It's like a storm at sea, because there's bound to be some calm behind it. So... I finally waited. Favorite thing I can do _when_ I want and _as long_ as I want, a home that will _always_ be ours and a _family_. You, me, and Daniel. I don't need anything else."

Oh, my sweet Sean... Who knows if Daniel only has the two of us around, he's a big boy. Yeah, he still needs his big brother, still loves him immensely and protects him, but... there's one thing in his life that he doesn't tell anyone about, and I wouldn't have found out if, one day, after six cans of beers in one evening, I hadn't mixed up the rooms.

While stumbling around in his room I noticed a letter on Daniel's bed, right next to the pillow. From Beaver Creek, signed by a man named Chris Eriksen.

As far as I know, the Diazes don't keep in touch with those who remained on the other side of the border. Sean is very principled about all of this, and Daniel seems to agree with him, but sometimes when I think back to Humboldt, or our first meeting, making fun of Sean and how sweet and shy he was, I can recall the sadness in Daniel's eyes.

Everything Sean needs is here in Puerto Lobos, but apparently, junior Diaz still has something _important_ left on the other side, even if he doesn't want to admit it to anyone, perhaps even to himself.

How close is his relationship with this Chris? Would he want to give up his peaceful life in America, as I did, and come here, because Daniel's path to his homeland is blocked? I don't know. But I hope that the little one, eventually, will forgive me completely and talk to me about it. After all, _we are a family_.


End file.
